Sweet Madness Unleashed
by Admiral T. DeVanto
Summary: At the mercy of Largus Tradio, Edian descends into insanity. But is it insane to say that she finds her madness comforting?


Open hatred is better than hidden love.

Edian failed in both departments. She could never reveal her open hatred to those who enslaved and played with her mind like a doll. Her free will was slipping away, but the love that she had buried with such care and tenderness still remained.

However, her hidden feelings filled within her, like a cup that was overflowing and threatening to spill over with one more drop. Soon, it was poisoning her.

She could only stare out the window, the grey walls of her stark and plain rooms caging her in. The window, though fragile, prevented her from moving forward and outside into the eluding portrait of freedom.

Now, she knew how _he _had felt. She knew just how trapped _he _had been.

She reached out and gently tapped the glass. She stared at her finger before tapping the glass once more.

So far...and yet so close.

How cruel it must have been, to witness freedom and have it denied. Her heart, the very heart that betrayed and led to the destruction of many Nobles, ached at the thought. She refused to comfort herself and instead remained still and impassive.

Hearing the sound of the door open, the slight creak of the metal piercing like a knife through the silence, she stiffened. No one bothered to knock anymore to signal their presence. Despite her position in the Union, no one treated her as anything more than a puppet. She waited for her strings to be tugged on as she awaited further orders.

The familiar raging presence of the Agvain Family Leader entered the room.

"You're still here?" Urokai scoffed. The door slammed behind him. Not waiting for an answer, he strode forward. "At least contribute to our cause."

Edian slowly cocked her head before quickly losing disinterest in her intrusive guest and returning to gazing back outside the window.

"How sad that the Drosia family has been reduced to this."

Her heart quivered. She could feel the remnants of her soul weapon stir within her, yet she could not grasp it. What was this hidden barrier that prevented her from experiencing the power of her ancestors? Though she trembled on the inside, she betrayed no outward emotions. To everyone else, she was nothing but a shell of the former leader she was.

This...this husk, it looked like Edian, but it was not her.

She did not feel like herself.

"Pathetic, really," he scoffed. "You wallow in self-pity and blame yourself, yet you do nothing."

Because she could do nothing. They would not allow her. Besides, she was fine as she was: undisturbed and unwanted.

That was how she always was. She was unnoticed as a Noble, and she was unnoticed as a Union member. She did not care for the trivial matters of the Union. When Urokai had told her that he had become a Union Elder, she had barely reacted. Was he not a Family Leader without a family? What was being a Union Elder supposed to mean to her? Becoming a member of the Union was merely trading one organization for another.

"You just sit here like the pretty doll you are."

That's right. She should just remain as she was. After all, she told herself that she was content as she was.

Urokai lingered for a little while longer. She entertained the brief thought that he was genuinely concerned for her, but she was no fool. He was merely checking in. Just as Urokai and the others had been checking on _him. _She was being watched.

He left, and she did not know how much time had passed since his arrival to his departure. But with the sound of the door slamming shut, her shoulders relaxed. Red eyes flickered over to a blank piece of paper. With delicate movements, she slid the paper over to reveal another slip of paper with written work. Fingering the pen in her hand, she stared at the paper.

She began writing. The pen flowed over the paper, black ink staining the crisp white paper. Her eyes flickered over the page, her emotions pouring out faster than she could write. However, she did not stop. Her fingers were soon stained black, but she kept writing.

She started with an apology.

She poured her regrets and sorrows into her words, the words she could never speak to _him_, the words she _should _have said to him. She should have told him the truth. She should have told him that everything had been her fault.

But more importantly, she wanted to let him know how sorry she was for betraying him.

Even if he could never love her, then she would be content with knowing that he was safe.

Once she was done, she held her letters over the roaring fireplace in her room.

The papers hovered over the fire, yet she did not drop it.

She grit her teeth. _Drop it! _She ordered herself. _Who else would see this? This worthless confession? Who else was left to care?_

The letters slipped from her fingers. She watched as the papers, as pure and white like snow, slowly curled at the edges.

With a wordless cry, she lurched forward and scrambled to grab at the paper. The burning pain was nothing in comparison to her burning heart. Within seconds, she held her precious letters close to her chest. Gasps tormented her body as she breathed, not from the excursion, but from the fear.

No. She would hold onto these a little while longer.

She turned sharply to gaze out the window once more. The sun was beginning to set, casting golden shadows upon the room. Standing before the window, she pressed the palm of her hand against the glass.

And with a burst of her power, the glass shattered.

* * *

Her hand had healed, yet the droplets of blood still stained the glass. She stared without a care to the damage she had caused. She had shattered the barrier, yet she could not break free and summon enough courage to walk through the opening. Instead, she stared, trembling where she stood.

"Edian?"

"Don't," she whispered. Closing her eyes, she shuddered. "Don't deceive me."

"Edian."

"I said stop!" she screamed, lashing out. She turned with wide eyes, ready to face the phantom.

Or so she thought.

She was not ready to face what stood before her. _Who _stood before her. Red eyes gazed at her with such affection that her knees nearly became weak at the sight. Black hair that lightly touched his cheeks fluttered slightly in the breeze.

She trembled. "Is this...is this real?" she whispered. "Are you real?"

Raizel smiled and gently took her hand. "I am."

Tears welled up in her eyes and she shook her head. "No. No you are not."

"But you want me to be."

"I do. I really do."

He stepped closer, so close that she could feel the heat of his body. "Then for a moment, just pretend."

She trembled because she wanted this to be real. She wanted this moment to happen. But instead, she pulled away.

"Edian," he said.

She shuddered when she heard him say her name. She couldn't bring herself to look at him. If she did, she may fall into this endless loop of insanity.

* * *

She had officially lost her mind.

Rigged, she sat in her chair. Her hands clenched the armrests, her knuckles white from the strain.

She felt his presence draw in close to her, and she stiffened. Arms wrapped around her and pulled her close. Edian closed her eyes and leaned in to his touch. Her hand came up to touch his and she sighed in content.

How could insanity feel so good?

Her eyes flashed open. "Please...stop."

She felt him linger before he released her. He did not speak, for which she was grateful for. How had it come to this? Before, she would have relished the chance to hear his voice. Now, she was terrified of what he might say.

This may not be real, but...she would grow used to the feeling of insanity if Sir Raizel was there with her.

* * *

"I keep seeing him."

"_Who?"_

"Him. The man I love."

"_Ah."_

"Am I crazy?"

"_Probably."_

"Then what does that make you?"

"_You."_

With distaste, she scoffed. "I am arguing with myself?"

"_Your mind is conjuring up what you want. You love him and want to see him. This is what you want, isn't it?"_

She hesitated, unwilling to confirm her desires.

"Edian?"

Slowly and with trepidation, she turned to see Raizel standing before her.

This...was this what she wanted? For him to be alive? For him to be here with her? But would Raizel ever look at her with such tenderness? Would his gaze ever caress her with such love and adoration? Was he ever concerned for her?

Did he ever look at her to hold out his hand, waiting for her to take it?

"_...but it is what you want."_

She was so pathetic. To be reduced to such a low state and to conjure up what was not real and could never be.

However…

...she could allow herself this small bit of madness.

* * *

He would visit her.

She would not know when he would appear, but he would show up in her meaningless existence. Something in her life was disturbed, just as she was mentally. But she did not mind. The real world was terrible anyway.

Still, she could not bring herself to speak to him, or look at him for too long. Her fingers were stained black from the ink as she distracted herself with her letters. Thinking of Raizel and writing her hidden feelings for him before her mind had conjured up this madness had been such an easy task.

She had once again entertained the thought of burning her unread letters, but she did not feel ready to commit such an act.

She felt his presence approach her.

"Who is this man that you write about?"

Edian felt her heart bloom. She had heard many humans say that to think of their loved one, their heart would flutter, or stutter. But Edian never experienced such a 'fluttering' or 'stuttering' feeling. Instead, she felt her heart bloom, like a flower that was slowly, yet eagerly, opening up to feel the precious warmth of the sun. To feel the soft wind caress its petals and the sun cherish its every being. That was how her heart felt when she thought of him.

But now, her blooming heart was accompanied by sadness. For her lover was no more. The sun had ceased to shine. The wind had died down, and the flower had no reason to bloom.

"He died," she said softly. She focused once more on the letters, the very letters that helped her convey what she felt and what she should have told him. These letters helped her say what she never could. She was never brave enough to tell him how she felt. Perhaps a part of it was rejection, or maybe another part of her knew how he would have felt if she ever made such a confession. She would have made him uncomfortable, and she hated that.

Even though he was gone, she still carried those feelings within her; she had for years. It was like he had never left.

She still thought of him every day. When the window was open and she hears the sound of a curtain, or smells the scent of herbal tea, she would almost expect him to be right there, standing by the window or drinking his tea.

The apparition her lonely mind conjured up said nothing. He only stood by her side, his presence neither comforting nor intimidating. With slow but graceful movements, he tucked her short hair behind her ear.

"I will be back," he promised.

He left, but Edian did not feel alone anymore.

"See you soon," she whispered, just as the door to her room opened.

"Who are you talking to?" Urokai demanded.

Edian continued to stare out the window with a soft smile.

* * *

As promised, he did return.

Her insanity never failed her. Not like reality had.

He embraced her without question. Edian held onto him. Even if this were not real, she could use someone to hold.

"Were you afraid of me?"

Edian paused for a minute and contemplated her response. Resting her head back on his shoulder, she sighed. "No. Not really."

She felt him turn his head to look down at her. "Not really?" he echoed.

"I was afraid...of what you would see."

"How could I not see you for what you are?"

"That was what I was afraid of."

* * *

It was many days, and many letters later, that she finally asked him this question.

"Can I tell you how I feel?"

"Only if you want me to hear."

"I do." She remained quiet…

...for her heart was only meant to be exposed to Raizel.

* * *

Her letters were piling up. They remained unread. She never read her letters. She knew what they said, and only one person was meant to read them anyway.

As she stared at a blank piece of paper, she felt his presence come up behind her; her mind always alerted her.

"I wish he was mine," she said.

He did not speak.

She stared at the flickering flame of the candle on her desk.

"I fell, but there was no one to catch me." A broken sigh escaped her lips as she sadly smiled. "I fell in love when there was no love returned." She held her newly written letter over the golden flame. "I fell in love with someone I can't have."

Still, she held none of this against _him_. It was her fault for falling in love to begin with. She was the one who hovered at the edge, too afraid to take the jump. Even if _he_could not love her, she had been happy that she had _him _in her life. It had been enough.

Still, on some nights, she would wonder what would have happened if they were more than what they already were.

As the candle consumed the letter, she stared at the destruction. The black lettering faded away into ash before there was nothing left. Soon, her fingers were burning, but she did not flinch.

Not until the paper was completely turned to ash did she move her fingers away from the candle. Glancing once more at her stack of letters, she set her jaw.

She got up and reached for the shelf. With quick movements, she picked up her letters and approached the fireplace.

She stared into the fire. The golden flames danced before her. He approached her, and she imagined his presence was warm like the fire. The letters she had so carefully composed hung loosely in her hands.

"Could you treat me...like _he _really would?"

"That is not what you want."

Her jaw hardened. "I want him for who he is." The papers hovered over the fire before she let them fall into the flames. "I would have had him as he was." As she watched the papers burn, she knew that she was truly alone.

She did not bother to save her letters. She knew what she wanted, and missed, to say. No one deserved to read those letters but _him. _

And he was long gone.

* * *

Her existence was bleak.

Empty.

And she had never felt more alone.

* * *

He was always meant to be in her heart, but never in her arms.

But was that really the truth? Would he have opened his heart to her if he knew how she had really felt?

She would never know.

* * *

"_Edian."_

It had been a while since her mind had conjured up her Raizel-apparition. With a sigh, she rested her hand on the armrest of her chair. "Yes?" The darkness of the night did not offer her much light. Perhaps this was another dream of hers. She often felt like she was in a dream and never in control of her body.

"_Edian Drosia."_

Her eyes narrowed and she turned around. Standing before her was the Noblesse.

He looked at her with such concern. He reached out to her without touching.

There was no adoration in those eyes. There was no love or hints of romantic fantasy.

There was only concern and a power of authority.

This was Raizel, the real Raizel. This was the Noblesse.

"_Edian."_

She blinked. "Sir Raizel?"

"_Wake up."_

She stood, her hands shaking. "What?"

"_Wake up."_

The room began to spin. Her head hurt. Something hot and wet trailed from her eyes and splattered onto the ground.

Blood.

"_End this madness."_

* * *

_**In the silent night, a vengeful scream tore through the darkness. **_

* * *

She awoke infuriated.

* * *

The room was a mess. She was a mess.

Her tantrum had left furniture overturned, some of it even broken. Papers were scattered with a few of them falling to the ground with hushed whispers.

With heavy gasps, her fists trembled.

"Let me out," she growled. Turning to face the door, her boots crunched against the broken glass of a destroyed mirror. The shattered glass reflected her broken spirit as she raged.

Her rage had been silent until now.

"Let me out! Let me out!" she screamed.

The doors burst open into tiny bits. The scenery was warped. She ran like a raging storm tearing through rooms. She could not summon her soul weapons, but she made a name for herself long before she had been named a Family Leader. She did not need her weapons to destroy.

The Drosia Family Leader stormed through the rooms. Metal doors were warped and damaged. Equipment was destroyed. With every step, destruction marked her way. Everything around her was shattered into oblivion, but even now, she was reaching her limits. She was losing her sight, and her movements were slowing down, but her rage was unquenched.

She did not know who got to her first, but she recognized the presence of a Noble.

Her fury was, once more, unleashed.

"Cowards!" she screamed. "You're all cowards!"

"Restrain her!" someone shouted. Arms grabbed ahold of her.

"Let me go!" she shrieked. "How could you! How could you do this! To him? To me?"

"Largus! Do something!"

Her eyes narrowed as her vision focused on the one Noble standing before her. "Largus," she hissed.

The Noble gazed at her, unimpressed, which only served to anger her even more. "You did this!" she screamed as she struggled against her captors. Why could she not break away? Despite the presence of two other Nobles, surely, she should be able to fight back. "What did you do to me?" she demanded. "Did you do this to _him_? To Sir Raizel?"

Largus approached her. "Urokai, hold her steady."

"Cowards!" she screamed, thrashing. "Let me go! Unhand me!"

"Edian, it's time for you to relax now."

* * *

She stared at the window, her expression blank. With maximum effort, she raised her hand to brush against the cold glass. A small, weak sigh escaped her pale lips. Whatever Largus had her on, it had completely erased her free will.

They had taken the furniture away, for she had broken them all and speared anyone that dared to try and come closer to her. They had removed the few pictures she had kept, for she had used the glass to cut at anyone in the room before trying to cut herself. They had even taken the rug, because she had used that as a weapon to torment her captors. In the end, when everyone had figured out that anything Edian could get her hands on would become a weapon, they had removed her to a different room.

It was empty, and she had no fireplace. The last time she had been near a fire, she had burned herself.

At least they gave her a chair to sit on.

They even gave her a room with a window.

A window with bars.

With each and every outburst she had, Largus would come, and she could feel the control leaving her body and mind.

She reached out to touch the glass through the iron bars.

It did not break.

* * *

**A/N: *dusts off the cobwebs* There, now it's ready to be published. Originally, this story was titled "Letters from Juliet." The story was supposed to be about Edian writing letters to Raizel but never really sending them. However, as the months went by and I tinkered with this story, I severely changed the plot and before I knew it, the title did not fit the story anymore. We still have Edian writing letters, but it's not the main point of the story anymore. **

**Remember, reviews are like cookies. I love them and can't get enough. **


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